


break a sweat

by dansunedisco



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crushes, Finn is a Dork, Fluff, Gyms, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rey & Finn Friendship, Rey is Amazing, Yoga, Yoga Instructor Poe Dameron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Finn might be a little in love.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Rey whacks him with her yoga block. “Stop mooning over him from across the room and go over there, then!”</i>
</p><p>-</p><p>Poe Dameron is a yoga instructor at the gym Finn frequents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so modern-setting stories get AUs in space. space-setting stories get modern AUs. idk anymore.
> 
> super quick fluff & crack

Finn might be a little bit in love.

Rey whacks him with her yoga block. “Stop mooning over him from across the room and go over there, then!”

He scowls. “I have a system,” he insists. “Lift weights, run on the treadmill, creep on the yoga instructor for exactly the length of ‘Whip It!’ and that’s _it_. Anything else is just… pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic is switching gyms because you saw Poe’s downward --”

“Hey! Resistance has _much_ nicer locker rooms than Starkiller Bod, okay? _And_ it’s closer to my bus line. It’s just economical, is what it is.” That, and he wasn’t sure he could handle Phasma’s overbearing training schedule anymore. Three upper body days in a row is how you got hurt. Poe had nothing to do with switch. _Nothing_.

“I don’t understand you,” Rey says, deftly moving into a perfect warrior pose flow. She gives him a thoughtful look. “He looks over here, you know.”

“Don’t switch tactics on me, Rey,” he says. He’s perfectly happy thinking he doesn’t stand a chance with Poe Dameron, because zero chances meant zero opportunity to stick his foot in his mouth. Something, he’s been told, he excels at. “And anyway, if he’s looking at anyone over _here_ , it’s you.”

“Oh please,” she scoffs. “He keeps his class an extra ten minutes in shavasana whenever you’re by the windows -- and he walks around, _helping_ , as if anyone needs help lying on their backs…”

“Maybe he likes to optimize nap time,” he says, though the excuse sounds weak even to his own ears. Could he --? No, there’s no way. “I mean, it’s not like he even knows who I am. I’m just some guy that works out at his gym and maybe pays a _little_ too much attention to the yoga room when he’s around.” He pauses. “A reputation that, now that I think about it, is very, very unflattering.”

“Come to a class with me,” Rey says, after a long moment.

He narrows his eyes, instantly suspicious. “Why?”

“Partially because one -- ‘I consider touching my toes a serious win’ is _not_ something I ever want to hear you say again,” she says, bending into a forward fold. “And two -- I want to prove you wrong. Come to tomorrow’s session. Let’s see what Poe does. I’m not a gambling woman, but I’ll bet you lunch he’s into you.”

The problem with having Rey as his best friend is that she’s imperceptibly good at convincing him to do things he normally wouldn’t do, which is how he finds himself calling her bluff by waking up altogether too early for Poe’s morning session the very next day. It’s cold out, and he nearly breaks his back on black ice on his walk in, but he makes it.

Though, when he sees Poe talking to another trainer by the front desk, he kind of wishes he hadn’t. Because no one -- _no one_ \-- should be allowed to look so good so early in the morning. Perfectly coiffed hair, perfect smile, perfect _voice_. _Someone help me_ , he thinks. There’s no way he’s going to survive this class.

He sneaks in and immediately spots Rey, who waves him over with a sleepy smile. “Ready to become a human pretzel?” she asks.

“You have more faith in my ligaments than I do,” he sighs, and nearly swallows his tongue when someone chimes in with a cheery, “You’ll do great.”

At the sound of Poe’s voice, Finn feels his stomach swoop. It’s a feeling he normally equates to the moments before his greatest foot-in-mouth moments, and he crosses his arms in a desperate bid to look cool -- chill, relaxed, _cool_.

“‘Morning, Rey,” Poe says, and to Finn: “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“Yeah, no, it’s my first time,” he says, and cringes internally. _First time? Get it together, Finn!_ “Taking yoga, I mean. First time taking yoga.”

“That’s great,” Poe enthuses, and follows it up by squeezing Finn’s shoulder with a grin. He tilts his head. “I have to set up, but -- I hope you enjoy yourself. Let me know if you need anything.”

Rey snorts as soon as Poe’s out of earshot. “Just so we’re clear, he’s _never_ done that before.”

Finn ignores her teasing look. “You can’t have possibly been to every single one of his classes,” he replies, catching Poe’s eyes from across the room. They both grin at the same time.

“See?” Rey interjects.

And, for the first time, Finn thinks that maybe he does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super duper tiny follow-up drabble

“You’re really flexible,” Finn stammers, and immediately wants to slam his forehead onto the dinner table. The dinner table Poe Dameron -- _Poe Dameron,_ Finn’s long-standing crush -- was currently seated at. With Finn. Because he asked Finn out. For some inconceivable reason. “I mean -- uh, that came out really inappropriate. What I meant was --”

Poe reaches across the tabletop and places his hand over Finn’s, smile gentle and surprisingly non-judgmental. “I’m nervous, too,” he admits. He bites his lower lip. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I used to keep my class overtime so I could watch you finish your weights routine?”

The confession makes Finn laugh, suddenly remembering that he argued with Rey for several weeks over that observation. He can _never_ tell her that it’s true. She’d never let him live it down. He takes a (hopefully) subtle calming breath and exhales. “It does, actually,” he says, overwhelmingly pleased, and weirdly calm.

“So, Finn,” Poe says, drawing his hand back onto the table. Their hands are still close enough to touch fingertips. “What do _you_ do for a living?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a prequel drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone asked me for some gym au headcanons so i wrote a pre-au drabble instead. :)

“FN-2187,” Phasma said, as Finn scanned his gym card by the front desk.

He nodded and continued on his way to the locker room. It was too early in the morning to remind her his name -- not that she would remember, or care. Not once had she called him anything other than FN-2187, and she’d been his trainer for over a year now. It was ‘gym policy’ to call all their members by their official titles. In Finn’s case, his membership number. He had overheard Hux saying it was a morale tool suggested by corporate, but if you asked Finn (and no one ever did) it was pretty damn demoralizing, though he seemed to be the only member of Starkiller Bod that felt that way. He shouldered his way into the locker room, already dreading the workout to come.

During the entirety of Phasma’s brutal warm-up, Finn’s mind wandered. He imagined leaving Starkiller. Going to a different, more relaxed gym. Somewhere Phasma didn’t critique his form, where he could do what he  _ wanted  _ to do instead of her regimented routine. But he was stuck, saddled with an ironclad contract he couldn’t afford to pay out. 

“Engage your core,” Phasma’s voice came from over his shoulder in the same calm, measured tone she used for nearly every event.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, already back in perfect plank position. She walked off, seemingly satisfied -- she never said so much as a ‘good job’ to anyone,  _ ever,  _ so he could only guess -- and he sighed.

Day by day, his resolve to be here was scraped away. But no one left Starkiller, and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to be the first.

 

-

 

A week later, something happened. Something big. Finn felt it as soon as he arrived and scanned his card. A strange, palpable tension hung in the air. The trainers were moving at a double-time, the janitorial division (which normally did their business during the night shift) were out in force, and he could see Phasma and Hux talking privately in the manager’s office.

“What’s going on?” he asked Zeroes.

Zeroes shrugged. He and Finn had been taking the same body combat class for half a year now, but neither man could say they were friends. “Not sure. I saw Kylo Ren walking around with some new guy,” he replied, waving his hand in the direction of the cardio room.

Finn looked. Kylo Ren was indeed walking with someone new. The man looked a few years older than Finn, and comically short next to the taller Kylo Ren. The stranger looked displeased, their mouth pulled into an unflattering frown. Finn found this reaction unsurprising, as most people who talked to Kylo Ren ended up never wanting to again. What was surprising, however, was that he was here at all. Just like no one  _ left  _ Starkiller, no one new joined either. It was a division of the First Order fitness lifestyle platform, and you had to have a reference to be admitted. Membership was so strict and controlled that sometimes Finn wondered how  _ he  _ had gotten in.

“Who’s he?” he asked, unable to tear his gaze away from the strange sight. It didn’t help that the newcomer was quite handsome.

“Beats me,” Zeroes replied. “I overheard someone talking about corporate snagging a new instructor, but --”

Finn stopped listening as Zeroes recounted the latest gossip, his mind caught up in the mystery.  _ A new instructor from corporate _ … Something didn’t feel  _ right  _ about the whole thing, but before he could voice his concerns, Phasma exited Hux’s office and immediately called them to order.

 

-

 

“This place is the worst.”

Finn jumped, and twisted around. It was the guy from before, the one who had been walking with Kylo Ren. He looked even better up close; perfectly mussed hair, dark stubble… He gulped. He was in trouble. “What?”

The guy smiled. “Hi. I’m Poe,” he said, extending his hand, “Poe Dameron.”

Finn stared at Poe’s offered hand, bemused. No one shook hands at Starkiller.  _ Germs _ , he’d been told. “FN-2187,” he replied, going in for the handshake anyway.

Poe’s eyebrows shot up. “FN --?”

“2187.” At Poe’s continued bewildered look, Finn explained quietly, “We’re supposed call each other by our numbers, especially to instructors. You’re an instructor. Aren’t you?”

“Not by choice,” he mumbled. Then, strongly, “And I’m not calling you that.”

Finn flushed. Where had this guy come from? And what did he mean when he said he wasn’t instructing at Starkiller by his own choice? “I’m Finn,” he said instead. “But don’t let Phasma hear you say it.”

Poe nodded, as if he already knew the rules to surviving Starkiller. “It was nice to meet you, Finn.”

“Likewise,” he replied, unsure of what else to say, but finding the words to be very true regardless. Poe left after another round of meaningless small talk, and Finn wondered, not for the first time, what was going on behind the scenes at the First Order.

**Author's Note:**

> [let's hang out on tumblr!](http://finndaumeron.tumblr.com/)


End file.
